“What’s for dessert?” I asked to shift the conversation. The sink was half full of water and soap bubbles now. I slid the dirty dishes in to soak.
“Dessert? You think I make dessert every night? It’s not good for you. It rots your teeth.”
Shelby laughed. “You make dessert every night Jordan comes.”
“What if I didn’t this time? Do you think your mother is so predictable?”
“Yes,” Shelby and I said at the same time.
I picked up the sponge and wrinkled my nose. It was falling apart. “Do you have any fresh sponges?”
Mom pointed to her cleaning cabinet at the end of the counter. “There should be a couple new ones in there. And you might as well grab the pudding out of the fridge while you’re at it.”
“Ha! I knew there was dessert!” Of course I went for the treats first. “And butterscotch. My favorite. You’re not spoiling me, are you, Mom?”
“How can I spoil a grown man? I already spoiled you when you were a child. The damage is done.”
I put two of the preprepared bowls on the table, sliding them away from Shelby.
“Hey! Where’s mine?”
“Are you ready for it?”
“No, I just want to make sure you don’t steal it after you finish your bowl.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Shelby, when have I ever stolen your food?”
When she rolled her eyes, her whole head followed, her overdramatic reaction matching my false innocence. “When haven’t you?”
“I haven’t stolen a single bite from your plate tonight.”
“Yet.”
I grabbed some clean spoons and settled in to enjoy my pudding. “Someone’s feeling sassy.”
“Speaking of sassy… are you going to tell him now?” Mom looked about ready to burst with whatever news she was holding inside. “Shelby has amazing news!”
Mid-bite, I set down my spoon. “What? Why are you holding back? I want to hear.”
Shelby finished chewing before she spoke. “Because you’re grumpy when you’re hangry. I didn’t want you to spoil it.”
I honestly couldn’t argue. “I’m not hangry now. So spill.”
An impish expression crossed my little sister’s face. “I sold a piece to the New Yorker.”
Mom clapped excitedly, and my mouth dropped open. “Shut up. For real?”
“For real.”
Mom hurried to the counter and grabbed a piece of paper. “Look! I had her print the acceptance letter. I want to frame it.”
“Mom.”
I jumped up, pudding forgotten, and circled the table to hug my sister. “Shelbs, that’s amazing! You’re amazing. I’m going to buy so many copies when it comes out and give them to everyone we know.”
“Don’t you dare.” Shelby smiled at me.
I couldn’t process all of the emotions swelling in my chest. So many people had told Shelby she needed to settle. That her disability would limit what she could do, what she could accomplish. At times, I’d almost believed them. But Shelby never had. She was so determined to do. To be. To live. And she was doing it.
Dinner with my family always lifted my spirits, but tonight was special. There was a lightness to the air, almost like we weren’t at full gravity. Mom’s constant exhaustion slipped away, my worries about the two of them stepped to the side, and Shelby’s confidence and brilliance took center stage.
Until I went to grab a clean sponge to finish washing the dishes.
On top of the counter was a pile of papers. Simply because they were there, I glanced at them, and a giant red stamp shouting OVERDUE leapt out at me. I set the sponge aside and lifted the paper to see what was under it. PAST DUE. Again and again. A pile of bills reaching back months.
Suddenly, Mom took the papers from my hand and set them back neatly in their pile with a significant glance toward Shelby. “Did you find the sponge?”
“Sponge?”
Shelby cackled behind me. “Jordie’s in a food coma.”
Right. Dinner. Dishes. Sponge. I grabbed it. Mom didn’t want to talk about these in front of Shelby. Fair. Especially tonight. But we were going to talk about them before I left.
As Mom returned from helping Shelby settle in to watch TV, I lifted the pile of bills in my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m your mother. I take care of you, not the other way around.” She claimed the papers and set them at the far end of the table.
“That was true when I was a child, Mom, but it doesn’t have to be that way now. You’re already working so hard—”
“As if you aren’t?” Mom grabbed my hand. “They’re mostly medical bills. I make sure to pay rent and utilities first. We’re not going to be homeless, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The thought had crossed my mind. “I thought insurance was supposed to cover it all.”
Mom tilted her head back and forth sideways. “They cover what they deem necessities.”
“Ah.” And things which made Shelby and Mom’s life infinitely easier weren’t always what the insurance company thought necessary. “Then you should definitely let me help. Does Shelby know?”
Mom shook her head. “And I don’t want her to worry about it, or feel like she has to take on assignments she doesn’t want, or commit to an overwhelming schedule. She’s doing so well. I just want to protect her.”
I squeezed Mom’s hand. “You can’t protect her from everything.”
“You think I don’t know that? I can’t protect her from most things. From her health, from other people, from society saying she’s not the brilliant angel she is. But I can protect her from this. So let me. You need to focus on saving up for a nice house with room for my future grandchildren.”
“Mom, I don’t even have a boyfriend. Kids are far off in the future.” Sadly. I definitely wanted a mate and children, but even meeting someone was kind of hard when you worked most nights.
“Then you should be out there dating instead of worrying about Shelby and me. We’ll let Shelby concentrate on her writing, and I’ll worry about the bills.”
I didn’t agree with Mom, though I understood where she was coming from. Shelby was a grown adult, more than capable of managing the stress and mental weight of their financial situation. “You have to let me help you.”
Mom’s lips pursed, but she glanced over her shoulder at the living room, where the noise from Shelby’s show covered our conversation. “We’ll talk about it. But not tonight. I want to be happy for Shelby tonight. And you have work.”
She was playing dirty. But I knew how to do that as well. I stood to kiss her forehead. “Soon.” It was both promise and threat. I wouldn’t forget, even if she wanted me to.
I bent over the couch to give Shelby a hug and kiss goodbye before I stepped out into the chill evening air. I checked my pocket to make sure the sheet of paper was still there.
While Mom was helping Shelby, I’d slipped the largest bill emblazoned with FINAL NOTICE out of the pile. I understood Mom’s pride—I’d gotten my own from her. But I felt absolutely no guilt stepping in to help the woman who’d given so much of her life to caring for Shelby and me. I’d have to dip into my savings account, which I was hoping to use on a down payment for a house big enough for the three of us, but that was what savings were for. Filling in the gaps.